


Raven Half-Bloods

by BlueGirl22



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Death, Gen, probs other ppl but I can't think rn, probs other ships but I can't think rn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-16 06:59:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5818624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueGirl22/pseuds/BlueGirl22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Basic premise is that all trc characters exit in pjo universe and are demigods at chb)</p><p>A committed son of Athena.<br/>A magic-less daughter of Hecate.<br/>A cursed son of Ares.<br/>A determined son of Zelus.<br/>A (deceased) son of Hades.</p><p>A search for Pan.</p><p>Madness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Seven Years Ago

Noah wasn’t quite sure why he and Whelk were going on a walk. The other boy usually hated sunlight. Noah, on the other hand, loved it, contrary to what is expected from a son of Hades, so he was just grateful for the opportunity to get out. He rolled slowly along the smoothest piece of ground he could find on the wooded forest floor, and considered if any of his skateboard wheels needed replacing. One popped off. Apparently so. He hopped off and continued after his friend on foot.  
Whelk seemed in quite a hurry today, striding farther and farther out into the woods. Noah wondered if they were even still on camp property. He also wondered if the basket the dark-haired son of Akhlys carried contained a picnic blanket and sandwiches. The sun was high in the sky and Noah was getting hungry. Whelk stopped abruptly and dropped the basket. “This is the place.” he said in dark tones.  
“What place?” Noah asked  
“The mist is a little thinner right here. The perfect place to make a sacrifice to the gods.”  
“Oh, cool.”  
Whelk took some rocks out of the basket and passed them to Noah. “Would you lay these on the ground in a little circle shape?” Whelk looked a little tense. _No_ , thought Noah, _not tense, that’s not quite the right word._  
“Sure.” Noah passed his skateboard to his best friend, got on his knees and started placing the little chunks of quartz. _Excited. That’s it. That’s the word_.  
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Something didn’t feel right. Behind his back, Whelk put on a determined expression and gripped the skateboard like a baseball bat. _Wait a second_ , said Noah’s inner monologue, _why are we putting little rocks on on the ground? Should I tell him these are unnecessary? Does he just want these little shiny pink rocks to look pretty?_  
Noah began to speak while turning his head. “Hey, um, what is that we are sacri-”

The first blow struck him squarely on the face. Right on his cheekbone. The pain was quite extraordinary. The second one was less well aimed and shattered his shoulder. The third fractured his skull. It became hard to keep track after that.  
_Well_ , he thought as the lights started to go out, _at least I may receive special treatment in the Underworld_. He could almost hear the soothing rush of the Styx when- _no, no something’s wrong_. He found his soul wasn’t passing on. It was clinging to life like you may cling to a loved one’s coffin even if you know the fight is lost.  
However, with the whole no-pulse-and-not-breathing thing, Whelk thought his job done. He stood to admire his masterpiece, but he quickly cast his eyes away and touched his palms to the ground. He muttered, “I am ready to receive my reward, oh Lord of Riches.” There was a sound in the trees like a flock of birds flying by, but he ignored it.  
It increased in volume.  
Louder still.  
The was a screech almost right above his ear.  
He made the mistake of looking up, and flew onto his back as he was presented with the three Furies hovering in the air above him. Still clinging to the hope that things were going according to his idea, he managed to stammer out, “Are, are, are- are you here to give me my reward? I made a sacrifice in Hades honour-”  
He was cut off as the three screamed in unison, “DID YOU EXPECT THE LORD OF THE UNDERWORLD TO SHOWER YOU IN GIFTS FOR BEATING HIS ONLY CHILD?”  
“Well, it would make sense, giving his child back to him, and with him controlling all riches-”  
“USUALLY FOR SUCH A CRIME, WE WOULD JUST DISPATCH YOU IMMEDIATELY TO THE UNDERWORLD FOR HIM TO DO WITH YOU AS HE PLEASED, BUT HE TOLD US THAT BECAUSE THIS CRIME- THIS INSULT WAS SO PERSONAL THAT WE COULD PLAY WITH YOU FIRST. AND DON’T WE EVER LOVE TO PLAY!” There was some manic cackling. “DON’T WORRY, LITTLE HALF-BLOOD, WE AREN’T GOING TO BREAK YOUR BONES AS YOU DID TO THIS POOR CHILD. WHEREVER YOU GO FROM NOW ON, UNTIL THE DAY YOU DIE, WE SHALL BE WITH YOU, IN YOUR HEAD, REMINDING YOU WHAT IT IS YOU’VE DONE.”  
Whelk thought that this wasn’t as bad as what he had imagined and made the mistake of smiling. The Furies screeched once more, and vanished. For a second he remained on the ground, in a shocked state. Then he felt a needle pierced through his forehead. When he brought his hand to his face to remove the offending object, he found nothing there. He started to feel more phantom spears enter his brain, and ran off, clutching his head and screaming.  
From behind a tree, stepped the form of Noah Czerny. He looked quite the same as the body on the ground; same hair, same jeans, same bright -orange t-shirt, but he looked quite a bit more intact. Except for a dark shadow underneath one eye, and the fact the he was partially see through.


	2. Cabin #20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue exists here. Read on.

Blue sat patiently on her bunk as her siblings shot multi-colored sparks through the air. She used to want to join them in this silly game. Then she wanted to cut the power supply and stop them. Now, after eight months of being at camp, she watched the miniature fireworks display proceed before her eyes, the four distinct colors of her siblings forming delightful pictures. Calla’s orange, Persephone’s white, Orla’s pink, and Jimi’s green. Hecate seemed to have a thing about only mothering girls. Knowing her, she probably could make sure she did.

The reason Blue didn’t contribute some (most likely blue) sparks to this light show was that she couldn’t. Blue, as far as she could tell, had no demigod abilities what-so-ever. That was really strange, Hecate being the goddess of magic and all. She really thought she deserved something.

 

Except her curse, of course.

 

Actually, Blue didn’t like to think of it as a _curse_ , as such, but more of a _gentle restriction_. Somehow, instead of the ability to manipulate the mist, mix up cool potions, and, yes, send colored sparks into the air, she had been born with two special abilities: to be able to amplify the power of her siblings, and to have the most lethal lips of any any girl ever born.

 

Well, actually, let me clarify:

When small tiny baby Blue was dropped off on her father’s doorstep in a little basket with a copy of _The Care and Keeping of You Demigod,_ she was also left with a note.

 

> “Sorry about this one. Something went wrong with the pregnancy. If/when she kisses her true love, they’ll die. I’ll try and pop in every now and then to see if you need anything, ex. deadly weapons, larger armor, a pacifier,  larger house.
> 
> XOXO,
> 
> _Hecate_.”

She only figured out her second talent when she got to camp. The moment she stepped into the cabin, all of her brand-new siblings stepped back as if pushed. The girl she came to know as Orla rubbed her hands on her temples and sat down heavily on her bunk. A small voice from the corner of the room said, “Well this is going to be interesting.”

“You got that right Persephone.” said a tall dark girl with orange nails, leaning against the wall.

Blue had gotten slightly confused at that moment. For several seconds, she was under the impression that the goddess Persephone was in the room. Then the mass of fair hair hoved into view from behind a suitcase, and Blue made the connection that there was probably more than one person in the world with the name “Persephone”.

As time had gone by, she’d gotten used to life at camp. She grew accustomed to the war games, the cabins, the ridiculously extended families, and having to throw pieces of food into a fire at every meal. Hades, she’d even gotten used to Jimi always throwing raisins all over the cabin in an attempt to keep their mother in good cheer. However, there appeared to be one strange thing that was going to be hard to get out of her head.

Last week, she had been sought out by the oracle. That wasn’t to unusual in of itself, because Blue tended to ease the oracle’s visions slightly. The oracle had sat across from her on a picnic table while her eyes turned green and she furiously scribbled on a piece of paper. It looked like a list of names, but Blue couldn’t quite read the upside down writing.  She could make out one name, “JESSE DITTLEY” because it seemed to be in all caps for some reason.

The oracle’s hand stopped moving. Blue looked back up, and saw the woman face still staring blankly out, green-eyed. She waved her hand in front of the woman’s face a few times to see what was happening. That didn’t appear to do anything. Blue gently touched her wrist. The oracles left hand flew to Blue’s face and stayed there. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, her vision plunged into a view of a tree. Then a bee. Now an owl. And the back of a boy wearing a dark blue woolen shirt. He looked like he had been rained on. A voice whispered, “ _Gansey. Just Gansey._ ” Her vision went back to what was in front of her. The oracle was very close to her. She whispered urgently, “His name! What was his name? What did he say?” It took a moment for Blue to register the question.

“Um, uh,” _What was it? Why can’t I remember?_ “Gansey. He said Gansey.” _There it is_.

The oracle wrote without looking at the paper. “Did he make clear if that was a first or a last name?”

“No, no he didn’t. Sorry, what was that?”

The other woman sat down and took in a deep breath. “Very important, and very strange, is what that was.” She darted her eyes up to Blue. “I’ll explain. One of the visions wasn’t coming that easily. When you touched me, it projected into you. These people,” she slid the paper towards Blue, “are going to be dead within the year. I get a list of names every year on April 24. And this person, “she circled the name ‘Gansey’, “is either your true love, or your first murder victim.”

_Oh_ , thought Blue. _So both_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave kudos, or a review :) If there's anything you want clarification for, or want to see, just ask!


	3. Sleepless Scribbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which other, maler characters appear.

“Still nothing?” Gansey whispered into the silence of cabin seven. 

“Well, not really.” said a louder voice from the the other side of the bunk, followed by a chorus of ‘Shhh!”s from other members of Cabin 7 who were hell bent on not being woken until the sun came up in precisely 27 minutes and 13 seconds. 

“What do you mean, ‘not really’?” Gansey hissed.

“I mean, there’s some kind of image. It looks like a name, but I can’t really make it out.” The daughter of Apollo that Gansey had enlisted to assist his inquiry screwed her eyes up tighter, gripped her pencil like a knife, and roughly etched something into her note pad. Her eyes burst open as she tore off the page and thrust it toward Gansey. He couldn’t quite see the lettering in the gloom of the cabin, so he folded it up neatly and stuck it in between two of the pages in his notebook.

“Thanks, this has been helpful.” he said as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and dropped to the floor.

The girl grabbed his hand and lowered her voice about 1 1/2 octaves. “You’re still taking my dishwashing shifts this week, right?”

“Of course, Neeve. Pleasure working with you.”

He marched out the door stopped for a moment as the chilly spring-morning air slapped his face. _ Well, it was worth a try, _ he thought.  _ At least I got something. Sitting up all night with Neeve and resisting the urge to wake up all of her siblings was not truly wasted.  _ He leaped down the step onto the ground and strode at a leisurely pace towards Cabin 6. He nodded at the ever-present Hestia as he passed the fire pit. Looking around at the empty grounds, he decided to go back to his bunk just yet, and to take a stroll.

After a minute, he came upon some benches in front of the Big House and lay down on one, facing to sky. His eyes were half-closed and he was almost asleep when a familiar (and surprisingly glittery) face hoved into view, obscuring the slate gray sky. 

“Are you dead?”

Gansey opened his eyes sleepily. “Good morning to you too, Ronan. And no. Help me up, would you?” He extended an arm and was pulled roughly up by his friend.

“How did the death list thing go?”

“Not so well.” Gansey extracted the piece of paper from his journal, and looked at it in the brightening light of early morning. “This was all I got. Or rather, she got.” Gansey squinted at it, but couldn’t really make it out. “I think there’s a Y in it?”

Ronan raised an eyebrow and leaned towards the page. “It looks like some squirrels having an 18+ only party.”

Gansey tucked the sheet away again as he saw a tired looking brown-haired boy stroll down Half-Blood Hill. “Hey Parrish!” Ronan yelled while waving his arms, “Over here!”

Adam changed course and walked over towards them. Gansey noticed with concern the circles under his friend’s eyes.  _ If he left at ten o’clock last night, and the journey takes two hours, then he got at most… three hours sleep. Not good. _

“Morning guys. Anything fun happen overnight?” Adam asked.

“Well,” Ronan began, “Gansey tried to stalk the spirits of the soon to die, I fell asleep in the armory, and Noah decided to wake me up by pouring glitter on my head.” He shook his head, disturbed the glitter and watched it fall to the ground to emphasise his point. “So no. What about you? Throw any wild parties?”

“Nah. Just finished my homework and passed out.” He appeared to be straining to annihilate his New York accent. Gansey could still detect a hint of it, though. “Shack?”

“Sure.” Gansey spun on his heels and started walking toward the woods.

* * *

The Shack is, in itself, quite the phenomenon. Well, they called it the Shack, but in reality, it looked quite like a large cabin that was built along the edge of the woods and abandoned very quickly in mysterious circumstances. They just called it that because its outside walls appeared, on first glance, to be dilapidated and falling apart. Upon closer inspection, one may find that the boards that look like they’re falling off are infact nailed to their slanted position. The peeling paint? Unlike most old leaded paint, it doesn’t crumble when touched. Actually, it is carefully bent and broken steel made to look flakey. No one really knows when it got there, why is got there, or why, upon the inspection of Gansey two years ago, did it have four rooms and three made-up beds in it.

He had decided not to question it, or why no one took any notice of it. If giant immortal all-powerful deities can live in the sky and control the weather, than there can be a magic Shack in Camp Half-Blood. When the three boys arrived at their hangout spot, Noah was already there awaiting them. No matter how much thought Gansey put into it, he could never figure out how Noah always got to the Shack first. 

The fair-haired boy lay back across the sofa in the middle of the room, with his eyes almost closed. As usual, the colors of his clothes looked muted. The bright orange camp shirt that he perpetually wore looked like it had  a translucent gray sheet covering it. The once-blue jeans had faded to a kind of slate color. “Hello.” He mumbled.

“Hey Noah.” Gansey replied. He turned to his other friends. “I’m just going to go shower. Back in fifteen minutes.” 

Two minutes later, he stood on the porch of the Athena cabin, and raised his hand to open the door. The strange writing on the paper came back to him, so he took out the sheet.  _ Hmm, _ he thought,  _ In this light, _ he brought it closer to his face, annoyed that he hadn’t thought to bring his glasses,  _ it almost looks like Gansey. _

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to update each week, and if I don't with no excuse, bombard me with hate. If I don't respond even to that, know that I will have joined Noah.


End file.
